


The Great Pumpkin Carving Competition

by hpotps



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky is an ex-spy, M/M, Obama is still in office even though it's like 2020 it's fine, Pumpkin carving, steve is a baker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 03:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8270384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpotps/pseuds/hpotps
Summary: Steve always participates in the annual pumpkin carving competition, and he always wins. When he loses, of course it would be to a guy that's unreasonably attractive, is probably a spy, and has an affinity for poppy seed bagels. 
But it's fine, because winning isn't important. The kids having a good time and seeing or making really cool pumpkins is what's most important, bar none.
Except winning. Winning is more important than that.
Just know that Obama is still in office, Steve is a child, and Bucky is unreasonably good at pumpkin carving.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy this lighthearted, bubbly narrative that follows the story of one Steve Rogers trying to out-do a ridiculously good pumpkin-carver Bucky Barnes. Oh, and they fall in love.
> 
> Enjoy!

Every year, Steve Rogers took part in the pumpkin carving contest. 

 

He always won, but that was never what was important. What  _ was _ important, to him, was carving delicate, beautiful pictures in pumpkins. Last year he carved a train, that wrapped around the whole pumpkin, the year before that he carved a stretch of neighborhood kids playing superhero. All the kids always said "wow" and "amazing", and without fail, every year, Steve gave away his pumpkin carving medal to the kid he thought had the best pumpkin. Sometimes it would be a simple jack-o-lantern, one time a kid carved a shield with a star in the center for some comic about a guy called Captain America. It was pretty cool. 

 

This year, he got to work early. He picked up the biggest pumpkin he could find and he carved the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, Empire State Building, and many other landmarks with arms and hands holding one another in an effort to call attention to the need for unity after all the horrible events that took place this year. 

 

You can imagine his shock when he lost. 

 

There was a new man in town, his name was Jimmy or something, and he carved this badass portrait sequence that played out a fight if you spun the pumpkin fast enough. It was like a flip book but on a fucking pumpkin. 

 

He was fine though. 

 

Cause winning doesn't matter. 

 

Who cares that he spent a whole month working on his pumpkin? It wasn't important. What was important was the kids, and they liked them both and that is super cool even if this fucking douchebag, dickwad, fuckface, mcasshole was promoting violence. It's fine. 

 

It's really not that serious. 

 

"No hard feelings right?" Steve was so caught up in his reverie that he didn't notice the man coming up behind him. He jumped rather violently but definitely, for sure, did not squawk embarrassingly. He turned around slowly, and caught sight of easily the most gorgeous man he'd ever laid eyes on. "I hear your kind of a legend in this town with pumpkin carving. Your design was really, super cool." 

 

Steve was trying not to totally lose it because 100%, for sure, this man was a joke. He had to be a model. Or Achille. Or some other gorgeous thing, because this was unreal. "I'm sorry?" He blurted out when he realized he hadn't actually said anything to the man since he stopped talking probably a while ago. 

 

The man laughed a little, blushing slightly, scratched the back of his head, and finally stuck his hand out. "James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky."

  
"Steve. Steve Rogers." He replied, shaking the man's hand. 

 

"I was saying earlier that your design was really cool. I hope there's no hard feelings about the placing or anything. Mom always said I was really competitive." He trailed off laughing a little awkwardly. 

 

"Right." Steve said, "No hard feelings." 

 

"Cool," Bucky replied, ever awkward, "I'll see you around, then, I guess." 

 

Steve really was fine, it was a dumb contest. It was about the kids, not the medal. 

 

It wasn't until he watched Bucky accept the medal and twirl it casually before stuffing it in his pocket, that Steve came to the conclusion he did, in fact, care about winning. 

 

A lot. 

 

*

 

One year later, he stood on the stage of contestants. 

 

He had recreated the legend of the sword and the stone from King Arthur. There was no way he'd lose this year. 

 

He was wrong. 

 

Turns out Bucky (what stupid nickname is that anyway) made another flip book style presentation. Except this time, it was an exquisite transformation of a man running, he jumps into the air, and transforms into a Stag midair before canting forward and posing majestically near the man at the beginning, who was now petting him. 

 

And seriously who the fuck can carve that shit, who is he, what the fuck. 

 

"Hey!" Bucky said, "Look, I won again!" He looked so excited, and handsome the absolute asshole. "I think the kids are starting to like me." 

 

*

 

Late July the following year, Bucky showed up at Steve's bakery, twirling a knife and whistling idly. Considering how dangerous it was, it really shouldn't be so attractive. When they made eye contact, Bucky's face split wide open into this beautiful smile that took Steve's breath away. 

 

Or maybe it was the really heavy barrel he just carried up six flights of stairs that had him winded.

 

Speaking of- No sooner had he thought of it, flour exploded everywhere, covering him and every near surface from head to toe. Bucky, trying and failing not to laugh, rushed to his side to help him clean it up. "Lost your grip?" He asked.

  
If Steve repeated the question in a mocking manner under his breath, it would sound something like "Oh, lost your grip? Haha let's go make fun of Steve cause I'm super hot and can do whatever I want". But he definitely didn't do that, so it doesn't matter. 

 

"You think I'm super hot?" 

 

Okay so maybe he did say it, but that doesn't mean Bucky was supposed to  _ hear  _ it. 

 

"Um." Nice recovery. 

 

Bucky started laughing then, and if it was the most beautiful thing Steve ever heard, then he didn't tell anyone that. 

 

"I never said that." A+ save, Steve. 

 

"Yeah, you did. Like nineteen seconds ago." 

 

"Oh so now you're a time expert, okay." Steve said. Bucky couldn't help it, he laughed ever harder. Steve tried not to be childish. "Why are you laughing?" 

 

"You're funny," Bucky said, like it was obvious.

 

"Yeah, so what?" He wasn't very good at not being childish. 

 

"So, I don't think I'm the only super hot one in this conversation." Bucky replied, grinning. 

 

Steve actually looked behind him. 

 

"You." Bucky clarified, trying not to laugh even more. 

 

"Uh. Well that's just..." Damn, Stevie, are you a poet now too? "I'm gonna beat you at pumpkin carving." He blurted at once and that was  _ so _ not what he meant to say. Bucky laughed. It really was beautiful. 

 

"I look forward to it." He put the last pieces of the barrel on the counter, and dumped the last pile of flour in the trash. "See ya later Stevie!" He called, walking out the door before Steve really registered what was happening. 

 

*

 

This year Steve spent two hundred dollars on an impossibly huge pumpkin from this guy named Bruce in Spain. 

 

The thing had to be left at the docks, and Steve had to draft a special request for the pumpkin viewing to be held there since he couldn't move the pumpkin itself. He also needed a ladder for this year's design. Luckily enough, his pumpkin wasn't the only unreasonably sized item left at the docks, there were other things that were all draped in cloth and some were bigger and some were smaller than his pumpkin so he really fit right in. 

 

This year, when Bucky showed up, Steve grinned cockily at him. He was certain of his victory.

 

When they called his name, he stepped up to his absurdly large pumpkin and pulled the cloth off. When he lit the flame inside, the picture came to life. Using different dimensions to cast different shades of orange, Steven Grant Rogers had carved Starry Night into his pumpkin. It was beautiful, truly. Bucky's jaw actually dropped. Steve smiled smugly. 

 

Then, they called Bucky's name and he realized he didn't actually have a table this year, and was unsure of what he had to offer. 

 

To his abject horror, Bucky strolled right up to a cloth and pulled, in one swift movement the cloth left the enormous pumpkin behind and revealed this year's design. 

 

As if things couldn't get any worse, Bucky pulled on another cloth, and another, and two more after that, revealing five humongous pumpkins detailing the First Family of the United States.

 

"Obama," Steve said, "you carved Obama." 

 

"Pretty neat, huh?" Bucky asked, grinning sheepishly. 

  
"Pretty-!" Steve began, before cutting himself off and abruptly kicking his pumpkin in anger. He swore loudly, "Fuck!"

  
Several kids giggled. "Mr. Rogers said a bad word," One of them called. 

 

Steve held his foot and hopped in place, tears sprung up pricking the corners of his eyes. When Bucky came up to him, and asked if he was okay, Steve promptly slammed his foot down and growled in a rather frightening manner "You." 

 

His finger jabbed at Bucky's chest, his foot throbbing on the concrete, and his breath heaving, Bucky utterly laughed.    
  


"I'm sorry" he said between wheezing, "you're just- You look like an angry cat!" He called laughing even harder at Steve's constrained expression. 

  
"I- what?" He huffed. 

  
"Y'know," Bucky said coming back to himself, "Cats, like, puff themselves up when they're angry and then they growl and you just did that and-" he cut himself off, succumbing to an entirely new fit of giggles. 

 

Steve didn't know what to think of this, so he grabbed his ladder and stormed off, limping. "I'm still gonna beat you!" He shouted over his shoulder. 

 

*

 

Steve was sure that God was trying to kill him. 

 

Bucky  _ apparently _ went on morning runs, and now his route suddenly took him by Steve's bakery. Three times. And each time he got impossibly hotter. On the first loop he looked immaculate, and then he came back and looked a little sweaty in some way that should not turn Steve on, and the last time he was devoid of a shirt and would slow before coming into Steve's bakery. 

 

Without a shirt. 

 

Sweaty.

 

I mean, come on. 

 

He ordered the same thing, too. A poppyseed bagel with cream cheese and fresh strawberries. He liked his bagels halved, and warmed, but not toasted. He ate them three tables back from the window, four tables up from the back wall, always with a coffee that he ordered black and loaded with cream and sugar the second he sat down. He always read the newspaper, but he started on the second page. Always. 

 

One day, in early October, he came in and saw Steve placing his plate down in the exact spot and position he liked. 

 

"You're always in here at the same time," Steve said by way of explanation. "7:29. Every day." 

  
Bucky winked at Steve, and so what if his stomach flipped and he blushed. "You're too good to me, Stevie." He said. 

 

"Yeah, whatever." Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. 

 

When he turned away, a warm hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. "Eat with me." Bucky asked, but it came out as more of a statement. 

 

Steve pulled his hand away from Bucky's and didn't miss the way his face fell just slightly. 

 

He walked behind the counter and pulled out a poppyseed bagel and warmed it slightly. He spread cream cheese, and sliced fresh strawberries. He poured a cup of hot milk into a mug and added some cocoa powder. He stirred until it was well mixed, and added whipcream, and sprinkled cinnamon on top. He looked at the clock. He didn't technically pick up until 9:30 when people were on their way to work, and it was only 7:45 now. 

 

He walked around the counter and grabbed a sheet of paper and a marker. He wrote a quick note, turned his sign, and pasted his note up before it by way of explanation. 

 

"WILL OPEN LATE TODAY, THANK YOU FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING"

 

He grabbed his plate and cup off the counter and walked back to Bucky's table where he was on the fourth page of the newspaper. He placed his mug down, and sat. He grabbed his bagel and jammed a bit of it into his mouth. He drank some of his hot chocolate and pretended not to notice Bucky staring at him. 

 

"What? You invited me." Steve said, a little bit of bagel still in his mouth, teeth stained red, and really was their anything so beautiful? 

 

"Yeah," Bucky said, "Yeah I did." 

 

They passed into a comfortable, brief silence.

 

"Okay, but seriously I spent two hundred dollars on that pumpkin, so, what the fuck?" Steve said when the silence stretched just a bit too long. 

 

"Wow, you must go on dates often." Bucky said smiling slightly. 

 

Steve choked and a little bit of hot chocolate came out of his nose. It was cute. Okay, maybe it wasn’t. "This is not a-" 

  
"I've got connections." Bucky explained, totally ignoring Steve. 

 

"I knew it." Steve said suddenly. 

 

"Knew what?" Bucky asked. 

 

"You're a spy." Steve said. This time Bucky choked. "Oh my god, I was right!" 

 

Steve said it gloatingly, while Bucky said, "Shhh!" Really loudly despite them being the only ones in the small dining space. 

 

"You always sit close to an exit, but never leave your back exposed. You operate like clockwork. You always carry a knife on you. You're obviously in pique physical condition, oh my god, you're a spy!" Steve rattled off. 

 

"I'm not a spy." Bucky said. Steve scoffed loudly.

 

"You've got connections, Buck, no one says they've got connections. Especially not ones that send them unreasonably large pumpkins." Bucky had to admit, Steve wasn't wrong. 

 

"Okay, you're right." Steve whooped obnoxiously loud and Bucky really tried to pretend he didn't just fall harder for him. "But I'm not a spy anymore." He said. 

 

"This is so badass." Steve said. "So do you, like, know kung fu?"

  
"Kung- oh my god, Steve, shut up." 

  
"I'm just asking!"

  
"...yeah I know Kung fu." Bucky said. 

  
"Booyah!" Steve called. 

 

"Oh my god." Bucky groaned, burying his face in his hands. He was in love with a child. Not much better could be said about him, but still. Semantics. 

 

"Can you show me some cool moves?" Steve asked, and he looked so excited Bucky couldn't help himself. 

 

With the tables pushed to the side, and the room allowing more space to move, Bucky decided to teach Steve a thing or two. 

 

"Okay so you're gonna try to grab me, and I'm gonna show you how to stop someone from doing that." Bucky said.

  
"Does it involve flips and shit?" Steve asked. 

  
"Something like that," Bucky said. 

 

Steve went to grab him, and Bucky turned them around and sent Steve tripping towards the counter. He grabbed his hand and brought it up behind his back and bent him over the counter ledge. He leaned really close to Steve's ear and said, "You like that one?" 

 

Steve threw his head back and it collided with Bucky's nose. He stumbled back and clutched at it "Ouch!" He said. 

  
Steve grabbed him really quickly and pushed him down to the counter. 

 

"I prefer this one." Steve said. Bucky flushed a spectacular shade of red, and it was this inconvenient moment that Steve remembered Bucky was fantastically shirtless, and entirely attractive.

 

Steve let him up and they reset the bakery back to its original layout. 

 

"Where'd you learn that?" Bucky asked eventually. 

  
"Mr. and Mrs. Smith." Steve said. 

 

*

 

That year, at the pumpkin carving session, Steve reread the rules three different times to make sure he wasn't breaking any of them. He called his old college buddy from Physics 3000 and asked him to explain it all.

  
"You know, this would be much easier if I could see the pumpkin, Rogers." Tony said. 

  
"You can't it's gotta be a surprise." 

 

He wasn't the dumbest kid, by far, but it would be easier if Tony could do all of this stuff. 

 

When they called his name, Bucky winked, and Steve blew a kiss back. 

 

He pulled at the cloth, and unveiled this year's masterpiece. The pumpkin was plain at first sight, albeit rather large. Then it split and opened. On the inside was a single flickering candle, and three giant tubes. He clicked a little button and confetti exploded out of the pumpkin. 

 

When Bucky stepped up to the platform, he tsked, "Confetti's cool, Rogers," he said, pulling at the cloth, "but everyone knows, kids prefer-" and to Steve's absolute soul crushing disappointment, Bucky clicked a button and his pumpkin rained over the crowd with "-bubbles." 

 

*

 

When Bucky showed up the next morning, he was kind of disappointed. 

 

He put his face to the glass and looked around. Steve showed up from the stairwell and saw Bucky waving at him from the other side of the glass and gesturing at Steve's note on the door. 

 

"OPERATIVE BUSINESS HOURS HAVE CHANGED, NOW OPEN FROM 9:30 AM TO 12:30 AM MONDAY THRU SUNDAY" 

 

Steve grinned and walked up to the door, turning the latch and opening the door. "I guess you can come in early." Steve said. 

 

Bucky smiled like a goon and walked passed him and sat down. Steve really was never going to get used to him being shirtless and sweaty in his shop. 

  
"Around the counter to the left, your bagel's sitting in the toaster oven. It's ready, just in there to stay warm. Coffee's in there too." 

  
"Oh you're too good to me," Bucky said, he got up and as he was passing Steve he stood on his toes and kissed his cheek. "Do you want me to fix you anything?" He asked as he jumped over the counter like a lunatic, really.

  
"Uh-" Steve said, touching his cheek, "Yeah, the usual." He said. 

 

He raced downstairs and tried not to think too much about it until he was alone. Bucky had just kissed him. On the cheek. Like it was no big deal. And it was for sure a big deal. 

 

He touched his cheek where Bucky had kissed him and looked at the mirror above the washer. "Right." He told his reflection. "Okay." 

 

He walked back upstairs and sat with Bucky, and they ate and talked for what felt like hours. 

 

It wasn't until Steve heard a tap on the door and saw the line stretched passed his window panes that he looked at the clock and swore loudly. "It's almost ten, why didn't you tell me!" Steve said.

 

He gathered his cup and the plates and disappeared behind the counter. He placed them in the sink and turned around frantically. "Put a shirt on!" He said. 

 

He vaulted over the counter and unlocked the door and allowed the swarm of people inside. He ran back around the counter and started taking orders as quick as he could and told people to take a number and sit wherever they'd like. He was backlogged like a nightmare, but at least Bucky was beside him with a shirt on. 

 

Wait. 

 

"Why are you behind the counter?" He asked. 

 

"You looked like you could use some help." Bucky said. He took the hair tie off his wrist and scraped his hair into a lazy bun. He grabbed a spare apron off the hook behind him and tied it deftly behind his back. He grabbed three plates and crossed around the counter serving guests like he’d been working at the bakery for years.

 

Steve looked back at the woman smiling at him a little tightly and realized he really didn't have time to question this. "I'm sorry-" he looked back at her, "So you wanted..." 

 

And just like that, the day was slammed. He knew his business was growing, but he had thought it was still somewhat small. It felt like it had blown up over night. The hours never seemed to let up, and he was enjoying every second of it. Bucky running around, delivering food, refilling drinks, cleaning tables, and rushing back behind the counter to help take orders even. 

  
"To go." The kid said, he couldn't be more than 18. He grabbed the tray of coffee and left with his half dozen box of donuts. Steve walked him to the door, and waved him away wishing him good luck on his and his friend's exam they had the next day. He closed the door and leaned against it heavily. 

  
"You're amazing." Bucky said, placing the dish bin on the table and walking up to Steve, wrapping his hands around his waist. 

  
"You're not so bad yourself," Steve said, grinning tiredly. "Thank you so much for all your help today. You just gave up your whole day to help me, thank you so much."

  
"I wasn't up to much anyway. I honestly don't really do much aside from eat sleep and read. Also, beat you at pumpkin carving competitions." Bucky said, grinning. 

  
"Too soon." Steve said, smiling himself. 

 

He leaned down and captured Bucky's lips with his own before he really registered what he was doing. They stayed like that for a moment, kissing lazily, before Bucky pulled back. 

 

Steve came to his wits suddenly, "Oh my god, I'm so sorry." He said.

  
"What?" Bucky asked. 

  
"I didn't mean to- I mean not that I didn't enjoy but-" he was cut off as a pair of lips collided with his. This time he pulled back, "Um?" He asked. 

  
"Don't have to apologize for kissing me." Bucky said. He turned away, and grabbed the dish tray and headed behind the counter to do the dishes. Steve chuckled when he realized Bucky was still in full running gear. 

  
"There's a shower upstairs. When you open the door, turn right and head down the hall, it's the second door on the left. There are sweatpants and a tee shirt in the third drawer under the sink on the right side. Toothpaste is in the first drawer on the left, and spare toothbrushes are in the drawer under it. There’s a towel on the rack." He explained. 

  
He had made his way behind Bucky and grabbed the plate out of his hand. "Go, I'll finish these." 

 

That's how Bucky started working at the now-famous corner bakery in Brooklyn. He slowly moved into the apartment upstairs over the coming months. 

 

For Christmas he got Steve a custom set of carving knives. Steve got Bucky book called ‘How To Not Be an Asshole.’ Bucky laughed way harder than he should have. 

 

Bucky made excellent tips, and Steve won a national baking competition, "See!" Bucky had said, "You're not a total loser!" Steve punched him for that one. 

 

That year, they worked tirelessly on the pumpkin competition, reading manuals and trying to understand mechanics. 

  
A helicopter had to pull the cover from the pumpkin this year, and with good reason. A giant mecha-pumpkin stood there, waving at the kids. One kid screamed, "It's a transformer!!" 

  
Steve and Bucky won the competition that year.

 

That night, Bucky terminated his lease, and moved in full time above the bakery. 

 

Steve was the real winner that day.

**Author's Note:**

> So I definitely wrote this fic in two hours, by texting my best friend Bella (@107ths on tumblr), and it took 121 messages, and she's an angel so, yeah. Also if you don't believe me I'll post screenshots on my tumblr @cmonpadfoot at /tagged/pumpkin+carving+stevebucky.


End file.
